I will be eternally grateful if someone can help me with this title
by SHjarta
Summary: *Taking a break from writing this; I've not enough time to focus on it now that I'm back at school because the story-line is becoming demanding haha. I loved writing though it so will probably pick it up again to re-edit and finish off in the future.*
1. Author's Note

Author's Note

Last year I wrote "The Cabin Boy and The Pirate's Daughter", which is one of those stereotypical Treasure Planet fics where a girl is cheesily incorporated into the story. Finally got around to planning a sequel because it's summer, but I've no idea how often I'll update so please bear with me!_  
_

If you're planning on reading: 1. thank you and 2. you do** not** need to read the first story because it _does_ follow the exact plot of the movie. It ended on the OC, called Kaia, and Jim leaving the ship together. They hadn't arranged for the OC to live with Jim but that is what happens. This fic takes place almost a year after they got back from their voyage. To anyone who _did_ read the first story: as mentioned at the end, _the last two lines were not lead-ons to this sequel_. They were me being lazy with an ending, and, as mentioned before, just referencing the fact that trouble seems to follow the two them around everywhere.

If there's anything that's confusing, let me know; often I'll miss things out because they're filled in in my head. And, as usual, the first few chapters will be fairly dull because I don't want to launch into the "action" unrealistically fast. _The first three chapters are mostly description, and character-establishing, so you can literally just skip those if you want_.

Thank you! And good luck reading, haha.


	2. Bite Me!

Kaia's POV

Montressor's Interstellar Academy is almost the exact opposite of the education system back at home. Generally I was a humble, well-behaved and quietly confident yet still energetic student who tended to befriend teachers almost immediately, but here I've got a reputation as one of the most rebellious and obnoxious in the entire school. According to my many detention reports I am loud and provocative, otherwise so tired that I sleep throughout entire lessons. I do not complete work and am frequently late to class, consistently rude to teachers and my fellow peers.

Ok, fine, it's partly true. But only because of the disdain I received upon arriving here by both classmates and lecturers for where I'm from. People have this mindset that just because Erra is a beautiful and civilised planet that I'm a spoilt rich brat who was only admitted for her wealth, which is ludicrous. In Pleiadian culture, money is not even considered particularly valuable. However, no matter how convincing my arguments may appear, they refuse to even consider believing me. Usually I take no notice of what people think, and it's easy, but because their preconceptions of me are based not on my personality but my heritage... it actually hurts. I'm proud of where I come from!

So, when most people feel unwanted and overlooked, naturally what do they want to do? Rebel!

"Kaia!" Glancing down at my page I notice an arc-shaped scribble as a result of twiddling my pencil between two fingers. It's completely wrecked my essay title. "Repeat what I just said." My mechanics teacher is particularly eager to get me into trouble, which I kind of don't blame him for. I've been particularly, and unnecessarily, arsey with him since the beginning. But his lessons are really boring so how am I supposed to keep up properly? Narrowing my eyes, I try to remember what he'd been saying.

"Uh, a hydro-electric engine will combust if it's not-"

"Wrong! Out of my classroom, now." People all around me are giggling, I even hear a girl mimicking my answer behind me so I must've been pretty far off.

"But I-" I try to object but he cuts me off again.

"If you don't move now I'll add another half hour onto your lunchtime detention for talking back." What can I do? He's being especially fussy today, but all the more reason not to argue back. For a moment I stay in my seat, then, after a long and intentionally loud sigh, I gather up my books, shove them clumsily in my bag and sling it over my shoulder. I can feel all twenty eyes in the room watching me intently. "See you in the exclusion room, hunnie."

"Bite me." I slam the door and slouch against it, listening gratefully to the silence of the empty corridor. No way am I staying in this hell hole for a detention! I better make a move before someone notices that I'm missing, though. I slide down the door to crouch on the floor, yanking my graffiti-covered organiser from my bag. Jim and I have all of eachother's lessons on our own timetables; the two of us were almost inseparable until my detentions began cruising in to take chunks out of my lunch and break times. I trace my fingers along the days of the week until it lands on the current slot. A wide smile breaks across my lips as the word "engineering" jumps off the page at me; Jim's engineering tutor is the loveliest teacher in the entire school, and one of the only people who have shown me any sympathy so far. I've snuck into her lessons before and she hasn't minded, once even wondering over to chat to me about the class I'd left and what brilliant new excuse the teacher had used to kick me out.

I'll just go and say hello to Jim and then I'll head back to the Inn; we've only a few hours left of school, after all. I slide back up the door, turning briefly to peek through the window at everyone in the classroom. The only person who seems to be paying attention is Syera, and that's cause she fancies Sir. I scuttle off to the engineering department in the next building before Sir decides to come out and give me another lecture about my appalling attitude towards work.


	3. Kaia

Jim's POV

Nobody even flinches when the door is tentatively pushed open; visitors to this classroom are not uncommon. Everyone's working silently by their benches, the atmosphere being one full of stress and frustration. This assignment is insane! Nobody in here is going to be able to finish this before the lesson's up, but Miss seems confident in us and determined to squeeze at least one finished product out of her fifteen students. My concentration is at absolute maximum and I'm fiddling with the most tedious of wires when a hand on my shoulder makes me jump. I turn, angrily, preparing to yell at whoever it is for almost jolting me but all hostility is swept from my head when I see the person facing me.

Kaia has a strange face. She is gorgeous, without a doubt, but not in the way that you'd imagine a pretty girl. I really can't deny that I thought nothing of her when we first met. I also thought that it was ludicrous that she was Silver's daughter: they couldn't look any more different because he's as brown as a nut while her complexion is pale as the moon, contrasting heavily with various bruises down her arms. Not that she gets into many fights, she just has weird skin and bruises easily. I say weird, it's actually kind of incredible. I'd never imagined it possible to be so smooth, and her touch is enough to send tingles down my spine. Even Mum has admitted to getting butterflies! I love kissing her because she has such a firm tenderness; everything about her is sort of graceful and ethereal. She says that everyone's like that at home.

Her wavy hair looks extremely unnatural, but is also apparently common amongst Pleiadians: a flawless white to match her bleached face. It falls gracefully down over her ears, around her neck to rest at about chest-height, curving a little at the ends. Her lips are a duller red than average, but appear to be normal when posing against her colourless skin. And finally, I could talk paragraphs on her eyes. Cliché! I know, but honestly. The people here seem to find it easy to throw constant insults at her about how she looks, but nobody can deny that her green irises are pretty damn special. From a distance, you might've even thought that she had an eye defect, but by studying up close it's clear that she's simply been born with something incredible. They seem to encompass some kind of universe: massive varieties of hues and shades representing nebulae, the brighter areas being the stars; sunshine or no sunshine, their constant twinkling make her seem vivacious and excited by life, which no doubt she is. Well, most of the time.

"Did you get kicked out of class again?" I ask, while her fingers slide gently off my shoulder as she steps backwards to sit on a small stool next to my bench.

"Mechanics." She sighs softly, slumping down to lean the side of her face onto an open palm, and a smile slips my mouth. That one word speaks hundreds.

"I see," I say, and I do. Lots of teachers dislike Kaia, but her mechanics teacher totally hates her guts, and he'll find any excuse to yell at her. She doesn't whinge about him though, cause she knows that she gives him a ton of shit. "What's your plan, then?" I ask. She sits up, un-sticking her hand from her cheek.

"I'll head back to the Inn," she looks at me and smiles, "no point sticking around. Just wanted to say good-bye." She cocks her head and wiggles her ears, a habit which I've recently discovered to mean that she's either nervous, or she's cheering up. "Good luck with your thingie." Standing up, Kaia motions at the mess of wires on my table before kissing my cheek and leaving the room. No one looks up. It was as if she was never here at all.

* * *

Kaia's POV

Smiling to myself, I saunter down the hallway, past the noisy classrooms and the graffiti covered lockers and the flickering ceiling lights, out into the warm sunshine and through the all-too-familiar maze of buildings. The thought of everyone sitting in classrooms, sweaty fingers itching to be doing something other than scribbling useless notes, makes being outside seem even more blissful. Why don't I do this more often?! If the people here were more chilled, this place **would** be pretty cool though.

There are four buildings: the assembly hall is the most spectacular. It's a glass dome with bars of metal holding it together from the top; they heat up in the summer and you can burn yourself if you leave your bare skin on them for too long. It's filled with long silver benches and a massive stage where all sorts of performances are acted out. In the warm weather it could be used as a greenhouse! The canteen is far less showy, it's like an extension built onto the back of the hall: low, square and painted fully white with few windows, a bit like a prison cell. Then there are the practical and academic "sectors", as they're most commonly referred to. Two grand and almost dauntingly-tall buildings, they tower over the entire campus and cast great shadows for escaping the summer heat. The practical building is more modern, with larger classrooms and AC. The academic building is older, the oldest building in the complex, and the rooms are generally either absolutely freezing or uncomfortably warm. It smells like old books and baskets, but at the back it has a gorgeous library with shelves reaching metres and metres high which is a perfect place for studying since it's so quiet. But this place is smaller than it sounds; only the best students make it in. Amelia's one of the most renowned officers in the galaxy, so on her recommendation Jim and I were accepted almost immediately, regardless of our experience.

The front gate is grand and beautifully designed, but I won't be able to leave that way because of the policebot. There's no point forging any notes; I've bunked so many times that he recognises my face. I take a left turning then climb over the fence, catching my foot on the top but pulling myself over, down to the empty streets surrounding the academy. From here it's only a twenty minute walk back to the Benbow Inn.


	4. The Inn

_Sorry, this chapter is still pretty slow. I promise that it will pick up soon after here!_

* * *

Kaia's POV

"Saraaaah!" I deliberately pull an overstretched grin as she opens the door, an unimpressed expression plastered solidly across her face. My smile doesn't falter, and I can see her trying to hold back her amusement. She's used to this, and I feel bad for her. As soon as Jim finished his rebellious phase, I turned up and started causing trouble. Bless her though, she actually offered to speak to the academy on my behalf. I said no; I'd rather she weren't involved, because she does enough for me as it is.

"Let me guess," she says, finger on her lips, tipping her head up and looking towards the ceiling as if in deep thought, "mechanics?"

"Right on!" I laugh and she cracks a smile too. "Is there anything I can help with?" She beckons me inside.

* * *

I love Jim's mum; she is brilliant and hilarious and generous and loving and gorgeous, and she's been so kind to me ever since I plonked myself onto this planet. I'd say that she has been like a mother, but we have more of a sisterly relationship than anything. Jim is the prime topic of conversation, but she'll tell me about the cute guys who show up at the Inn, and I'll tell her about the cute guys at school; and she'll tell me about how she misses Jim's dad, and I'll tell her about how I miss my dad; and she'll tell me about her life before she ended up here, and I'll tell her about mine.

"I cannot believe that that stupid school still haven't sorted it out yet," she says, spatula in hand. She's cooking for the few guests who are currently seated in the dining hall, and I'm tackling the last few bits in the pile of washing up.

"I'm not really that fussed anymore," I say. "And, to be honest, anyone would learn more by spending three months on a ship than three years in that place."

"So you're pretty much sorted?" She chuckles, and I laugh.

"So is Jim! But if he wants to be a captain then he'll need the qualifications." That's Jim's plan. Man, if he figured anything from our trip to Treasure Planet, it was probably that he _never_ wants to be a cabin boy again. It won't be difficult for him to get what he needs though; he aces all of his written and practical tests, he's popular among peers and teachers, and he's hard-working and determined.

"He'll make a great captain," she says, smiling at her pan. Then she turns around to look at me, as if to say 'what do you think?'.

"I know." I turn from the sink, leaning against the counter to face her, wiping my hands on a tea-towel. Sarah is so proud of Jim. Hell, who wouldn't be?

"Thanks for doing that," she says, turning back to her cooking.

"No problem." Sarah's a really good cook, and an even better baker. On busy mornings, she sets out a buffet of chocolate croissants and garlic cheese twists, blueberry waffles and fruit parfaits, steaming cinnamon porridge and what she calls her 'banana soup'. The Inn always smells lovely, especially on those mornings. She hands me three plates to take through. "Being your waiter would be a better use of my time than going to that bloody academy," I say, leaving the kitchen. Behind me, she calls that she'd like that too. I don't know how Sarah manages to run this entire place by herself when BEN isn't here.

I rant a lot about that place, but it really isn't so bad. I feel guilty because Amelia got the two of us in there, and I feel like I should be making the most of it. Though I do make the most of the library! In terms of factual knowledge, I can't deny that I've learnt a lot.

I place the steaming plates down onto a table of a really odd looking family, and they say something to me in another dialect, which I assume translates to "thank you". Just as I'm heading back to the kitchen, the door opens and Jim steps inside. His hair is slick and his eyes look alert today; his bag is slung over his left shoulder and his collar buttons are undone. Jim's a real cutie. Some girls consistently stay over at the Inn just to try and chat him up. He always bats them away with the same line: "Sorry, I'm with Kaia", though I wouldn't like to call him my 'boyfriend'. We have a strange relationship and he means so much more to me than just that word. I find peace when I'm with him, and he's my rock when I can't be my own. Of course, we bicker, and we have plenty of arguments, but they are mostly as a result of bottled emotions which otherwise could not have made their way out. I've never really been angry with him.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey," he says, smiling and brushing his feet on the welcome-mat before stepping inside.


	5. Free Spirit

Kaia's POV

Jim's room is L-shaped; he says that he likes to keep the 'boring crap' away from his 'sleeping area'. In the section closest to the door is his desk, but you can barely see the desk anymore because of all the books, spare parts and papers littered on top of it. Beside the desk is an overflowing bin, and a little further along is his wardrobe which makes an exceptionally brilliant hiding place. Turning into the 'sleeping area', there is a massive window which opens out onto one of the most gorgeous views from the Inn. It also overlooks the garden, and the garden shed where Jim's building a new solar surfer. He told me that his old one was confiscated, but he's barely had a spare moment to fix the new one up because he's working so hard for the academy. At the very end of the L, pressed up against the wall, is his bed, which couldn't be more plain. Between the bed and the window are two battered bean bags, and opposite them is a bookshelf. His room is clean and has a modern-feel, unlike the rest of the Inn; Sarah is a bit crazy over old-fashioned things, but happily allowed Jim to design his own room.

"Kaia?" he says, turning himself around to face me. He's lying on his bed, exhausted, while I'm spread across one of his beanbags, my bare feet twitching back and forth over his wooden floorboards. It's 10:49pm. Morph is rolling around on the floor beside me, giggling underneath my fingers. He comes to school with us in our bags, disguised as pens, massively oversized rubbers or sometimes even books. We've gotten into trouble countless times because of it, so Morph tends to go with Jim more nowadays.

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to stay at the academy?" I smile at my feet, then laugh.

"Do you think they will keep me?" I turn to face him, but he isn't smiling. "Hey, Jim, what's up?" He closes his eyes and rests his head back down onto the bed.

"What will you do if you're not there?" he asks.

"Why?"

"You seem restless." I smile, because Jim can see through me almost better than I can see myself. Morph looks up at me, smiling. I stand up and go to lie next to Jim, entwining my legs into his, wrapping one arm around his back and holding his hand with the other. I can still hear Morph rolling around somewhere further back in the room. We lie there breathing for a few minutes before I decide how to reply.

"I'm not going to leave you," I say, slowly. His eyes are still closed. He is really tired. "If I go away, I'll come back," I look up at the ceiling then laugh, "you'll probably be better off without me here distracting you anyway!"

"Don't be stupid," he smiles, breathing into the bed sheets.

"You should sleep," I say, running my fingers through his hair. He frowns, so I chuckle and say: "I'm not gonna run away in the night or anything."

Jim's POV

"I should hope not," I say, remembering what Silver had said when he handed Morph over to us. 'He's a free spirit! Bein' in a cage, it'd break his 'eart.' He forgot to tell me that Kaia's a free spirit, too.

Slowly I pull myself up to face her. She also looks tired, so I agree to sleep. Kaia doesn't have a room. She wouldn't let Mum allocate her one, so she might be anywhere at night. Sometimes she stays in here, sometimes she'll be in one of the guest rooms, and sometimes she'll just take the couch. Sometimes I can't find her at all. I think she's happier that way.

"Night, Jim." Her voice is soft and quiet. I put a hand through her hair, and let it fall so that it rests on her cheek. She puts her fingers on my neck and leans in to kiss me lightly on the mouth, then she smiles and unravels her legs, slipping off the bed.

"Night, Kaia," I say. I feel slightly unsettled, and I know that she senses it too, but we both choose to disregard it for tonight. We smile once more at eachother before she disappears around the corner. The lights go out as the door clicks shut, and I fall asleep watching the stars out of the window. Morph settles on a small patch of duvet beside me, purring quietly.


	6. Mr Clasby

Kaia's POV

My engineering teacher, who is unfortunately not as gracious as Jim's, has forbidden me from using the hi-tech equipment because three lessons ago I burnt a hole through the table. Today, she gave me a glue-gun to fix the parts of this device together. But I don't like her, so I glued everything to the worktop instead.

Ok, ok, I **really** was asking for it this time. I sort of surprised myself. I'd never really caused any physical damage before, and at least making the hole was an accident, sort of. Half the class continued their work in silence, and the other half, including myself, were in absolute hysterics. She stormed over and actually hit me across the face.

"I'm not even going to bother issuing you a detention," she said, marching back over to her desk. "I'm calling the principal now."

Several "ooo"s bounce around the classroom, but I still couldn't stop laughing.

* * *

I knock three times on the door, as loudly as possible.

"Come in!" calls the familiar voice of the academy's intimidatingly over-qualified headmaster: Mr. Clasby. I poke my head around the door, and he motions to the chairs opposite him. He is a tall, stiff-looking man, with a bony face and a long neck and spider-like fingers. His flaking skin is a wan grey colour, and his three eyes are a sickly yellow. "I do believe that I requested to see your parents," he says, locking his fingers together on his desk in a business-like manner. I drop my bag and flop into the chair, putting on my widest, fakest smile just to piss him off. "Kaia, where are your parents?" he repeats.

"My dad's actually a pirate."

"Name?"

"Long-John Silver." He notes this down quickly, then looks back up at me.

"And your mother?"

"Dead."

"Ah, I see." He doesn't even seem slightly perturbed by my response, although he does have the courtesy to break eye contact. "This will have to do, then," he sighs heavily, "just you and I." He reaches down to a small chest of drawers beneath the desk, and pulls out a wad of paper. "Kaia, I am confident that you are aware of your situation?"

"And so are you, Sir." I eye him carefully. I like Mr. Clasby, cause even though he's a bit freaky, he really knows what's up. He has never been unnecessarily stern with me, but dispenses the appropriate punishments when he knows that I deserve them. I'm guessing he's got something good after what happened a couple of hours ago in engineering. He sighs again then leans forward. I keep my eye contact firm. Looking away, even for a moment, would be conceding to him.

"I am assured that, if I speak my honest thoughts, you will not spread them amongst your peers?"

"Who would I tell, Sir?" I chuckle. His expression remains stony. If there's one thing that'll make you feel accomplished at this place, it's not an A+ grade, but getting this damn guy to smile.

"I do like you, Kaia. You are characterful, a trait which I have observed to be very lacking in the majority of students at this academy." By _characterful_ I am assuming that he means 'not dull as a brick'. "I am also aware of your social situation, and trust me when I say that I understand what you're going through." I feel my eyes widen. Most of the time we forget that teachers have feelings too, especially somebody like Mr. Clasby. So when we are suddenly reminded that they, too, have their own problems and insecurities, it almost comes as a surprise. "However, it does not excuse your behaviour."

I look down at my hands, and for the first time in months, I feel embarrassed about how I've been acting.

"I understand," I say, slowly, before looking back up at him, "and I am sorry."

"Do you know how many reports I've received from your teachers?"

"No."

"One hundred and thirteen as of this morning."

"Shit." I put my hands through my hair. I knew it would be a lot, but I hadn't expected anything over fifty. More than a hundred behavioural reports in nine months. That **is** pretty appalling.

"I will excuse the language, given that you are shocked," he clasps his hands again, looking up at the ceiling as if to allow me some space.

"So what does that mean?" I rub my forehead and stare back at him. He immediately returns his gaze.

"For you?"

"Yes. Are you kicking me out?"

"No, no," he waves his hand back and forth in front of him. "Well, not permanently."

"For how long?"

"Just a fortnight. I hope that this will give you time to re-think your actions and perhaps even attempt to catch up on your studying." I laugh carelessly loudly then quickly clasp my hand over my mouth. He doesn't look impressed. "Please, think about it." I look down at my hands again and smile.

"I know I'm a pain in the arse but I honestly appreciate what you're saying, and I promise to think about it."

"Thank you." He puts the papers back into his drawers, then sits back up to face me, looking slightly exasperated. "If you have any problems you wish to speak about, you may arrange to see me."

"Thank you, Sir." I look at the clock. It's only 2:36. Suddenly, Mr. Clasby pushes his chair back and stands, straightening his tie, all three eyes blinking. He is dauntingly tall, almost reaching the ceiling.

"It seems that I will have to escort you to the front gates, seeing as the police-bots will not accept your notes." I smile sheepishly, feeling my cheeks tinge with embarrassment, then stand up and follow him out of the room. This guy knows _everything_. He opens the door for me, and switches the lights off as we step out before taking a spindly-looking key from his pocket and locking the office door.

* * *

Mr. Clasby walks oddly; slowly, but his legs are so long that just one step equates to two of mine. He places one foot in front, then gently lurches forwards, much like a tall animal would.

"I hope that your time here has not impinged too heavily on your confidence."

"Quite the contrary, Sir." He chuckles monotonously. It's hard to believe that only yesterday I was walking along this path, alone, in the sunshine.

"I will use your absence as an opportunity to formally address your peers of the issue."

"There's no need."

"Will your behaviour improve?" I consider this.

"Perhaps." We reach the front gate. The police-bot slides aside to give us space. Mr. Clasby turns to me.

"I wish you well, Kaia." He puts out his skeletal hand, and I shake it. It's surprisingly warm.

"And you." I smile at him, before stepping out onto the streets.


	7. The Market

Kaia's POV

I meant what I said to Sir. Maybe a couple of weeks out of that place will do me good, anyway. Jim's right: I've been feeling restless, and I need to get out and **do something**.

I decide not to head straight home, so I walk the opposite way, into the market-place. Not that I've any money on me, I just like the people and atmosphere and smells there. The market place in this town is one of the best on the whole of Montressor, apparently. It's an endlessly long street filled with small stalls and shops with over-insistent shopkeepers, but the places are gorgeous. There are incense-filled blanket-covered dens with glass panes and palm-readers inside; there are dark shops blaring out industrial music filled with gothic dresses and studded boots; there are food stalls with steaming pizzas, chicken, rice and bubbling curries; and there are antique shops that look like little wooden shacks, with antlers on all the walls and vases scattered across the floor.

* * *

I became weary quickly; there's something about the market, perhaps the contradictory combination of excessive business and subdued sleepiness, which swallows up my energy. The lanterns overhanging the streets were beginning to light up as the sky darkened, so I decided to start heading back to the inn. Some of the stalls had begun to shut, but the smell of a summer night still filled the air, and it was gorgeous. I breathed it all in: fresh linen washing, wafts of steaming sugar-covered donuts and jasmine incense. I walk slowly, looking up at the sky; a soft pastel pink is beginning to engulf the blue, and small clouds, shaped like fish carcasses, weave themselves serenely through the atmosphere. I am stolen from my speculation as a hand lands on my shoulder. As you'd expect, in a busy place like this, physical contact is definitely not uncommon, but the hand does not remove itself. I turn to face the bearer.

"Are yew a Pleiadian?" he asks, bluntly. His voice is deep, with an overwhelmingly strong accent. He is a fairly normal looking guy. His hair is a matt black, and falls messily over his ears and forehead. He's very pale, and his eyes demonstrate the weariness that I feel within my own body. His eyes are, in fact, so dark that I can see my own reflection in them. I'd have described him as looking almost like a werewolf-host, had they existed. There was something odd about him, but not particularly creepy.

"Yes," I say, turning slowly to face him.

"Frawm Erra?" His voice is gentle, but his expression remains emotionless.

"Yes," I say, carefully. Finally, he allows his hand to slip off my shoulder.

"Oh, I know abawt that place," he says, smiling, showing off a set of alarmingly sharp-looking teeth. I frown a little; what does this guy want?

"What do you know?"

"I know it's beyn locked up for ye-ars, and that if you're 'ere now, then you'll be missin' it." My eyes widen. Few people know about what's going on in Erra.

"What are you after?" I say. His eyes widen and appear to darken, and his smile grows. Ok, **now** he is creepy. I look around me but no-one else seems to be paying any attention to our conversation.

"Nothin' from you really, sweet'eart. Yew'r the one who could do weth my 'elp." I regard him, still frowning. He pulls me in closer by my t-shirt, covers one side of his mouth with his hand and hushes his voice to a whisper before continuing. "I can get yew inside the capit-ol!"

"And why would I trust you?" I step back, trying to recreate some of the distance between us.

"Cause we gonna make a de-al, ain't we?" he cocks his head, his smile fixed. "We gotta ship leavin' three days from now. Yew come'n that ship, we take ya there, yew get us in, we bring ya home."

"And how do you plan on getting inside?"

"Undergro-und system, darlin'. Ain't no other way, is there?" His smile begins to dwindle a little. "Jest need confirmation there's one of 'em with us, and they're 'appy. Corrupt as hell they all are, but they ain't stewpid buggers. Won't let no strangers in."

"Wait, wait," I step back, waving both hands in the space between me and him. "What are you talking about? Underground system?"

"You didn't really fink there was** no** way in, did ya? Cause I'll tell ya somethin': there's a diff-rence between no way in, and** no** way in." I begin to understand what he's saying despite his broken communication, but I cannot believe that it would be the case back home. There's no such thing as _corrupt Pleiadians_, there really isn't. But this guy seems to know what he's talking about, and who knows, a lot can change within six years.

"So," I try to set my thoughts straight, "you'll take me there if I confirm I'm a native, you'll take me through and into the city, and you'll bring me home? And all I have to do is prove I'm Pleiadian?"

"Tha's it. Tha's all you gotta do." He pulls back from me, the smile wiped clean off his face, which I am grateful for.

"I really need to think about tha-" he grabs my hand before I've had time to finish. His fingers are coarse and dirty, and his nails have been painted black. With them, he presses a small, folded piece of paper into my palm.

"Time and pla-ce," he says. "If you ain't there, we'll be movin' on to find someone else. You lot'r hard to come by the-se days, I'll have y'know." I consider him again, scrunching up my face and scrunching up my fingers around the piece of paper. He smiles again. "Hopefully see'y there, darlin'." He steps backwards, but I lurch forwards.

"Wait!" He looks surprised, but stops to let me speak, "what if I need to speak to you before that time?"

"Jest come here. Come back t'the market. I'll bey on the look-out for yew."

"Thank you." He smiles once more, then disappears into the crowd. I look at the note in my hand. Well, I don't have to decide right away. I turn around and re-begin my walk back to the inn. The sky has faded from pink to grey by this time.


	8. Cookies

_Another slow chapter, but I **promise** that things are gonna pick up from here. All of the scene-setting and character descriptions are out of the way now._

* * *

Sarah's POV

I knew from the moment Kaia knocked that something was up. She smiled at me when I opened the door though, so I didn't ask her. I tend to think it better to leave it to Jim when she's reluctant to speak.

"Hey, love," I say. She steps inside; her hair's disheveled and her eyes are tired but she says hello just as she usually does. "Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you, I think I just need to rest." I give her a quick hug and then she smiles at me again before disappearing upstairs. I've become really attached to Kaia; she's so lovely, and she's helped me to really connect with Jim again. But she won't stay here forever, and I think that Jim's started to realise that recently as well.

Kaia is not looking for good grades, or praise from teachers; she wants adventure; she wants to travel without burdening herself with committed relationships, which is how she's wound up here. I can see that she loves Jim, she loves him very much, but she's not going to wait for him forever.

* * *

Jim's POV

I wasn't surprised when Kaia told me that she'd been kicked out of school, but I was glad to hear that it was only for a short amount of time.  
She seemed totally fine about it, but something else was up with her and she didn't appear to want to discuss it. We sat together on the beanbags, with Morph, and talked for about an hour before Mum came up with some cookies on a tray.

"Some sugar for my favourite little zombies!"

"Mom!" How old does she think we are?! She places them daintily on the floor in front of us.

"What?" she asks, smirking, and yanking off her oven mitts, "you two have been so tired recently, you look like your eyeballs are gonna fall out! Half of them are chocolate chip and the other half are banana."

"Sarah, you are amazing!" Kaia sits up laughing, grinning at Mum, who grins back.

"Now, do you guys remember what's happening tomorrow?" She leans backwards, putting one hand on her hip, using the other to point at us while still grasping the mitts. One of her typical 'Mum poses'.

"Six month anniversary," I say, a mouth full of banana cookie.

"That's right, so we're gonna have another celebration party! Smaller this time, though." It's hard to believe how quickly the time has gone. Six whole months since the inn was finished; since we were all together, dancing in the hall, and standing on the balcony looking up at the stars, missing Silver. Mum is so excited. "All of the inn guests will be leaving by midday tomorrow. BEN is coming back and he'll be staying again; Amelia and Doppler are bringing along their newborns and there'll be some other faces as well!"

"I don't need to be in school for a while, so I can be here all of tomorrow to help out," Kaia says, smiling. Mum looks taken aback for a moment, but her grin quickly reappears. Both her and I saw that coming, and we also both know not to make a big deal out of it because it isn't a big deal.

"That'd be wonderful! Oh, I'm so excited!"

"Me too!" Kaia's practically floating off the beanbag, and both of their eyes are gleaming. Man, these girls and their parties. I gotta say though, it'll be really nice to see everyone again. BEN's only been away for a month and a half, but we've not seen the Doc or Captain in ages!

"Now eat up and sleep well tonight. I don't want you looking all bedraggled tomorrow. Smart clothes too, please!" she says, laughing as she parades out of the room.


	9. The Inn's Anniversary

Kaia's POV

I was originally going to sleep on the beanbags in Jim's room, but ended up snuggling up next to him in his bed because it was so cold. I woke just before his alarm went off, so lay there and watched him for a few minutes. He was dreaming, and his facial expressions kept shifting from discomfort to fear to contentment and back around in tiring circles. It's nice seeing him first thing in the morning.

I kissed him goodbye on the doorstep, then plodded into the kitchen, still in pajamas, to help Sarah. We baked apple crumble and custard, zucchini fries, banana bread, mini cupcakes and brownie cookies, fruit-and-nut flapjacks and pastries and cheese twists. I cleared the dining hall by stacking the chairs and tables next to the staircase, then hung some cutesy decorations around the banisters and chandeliers; we laid fancy buffet tables out, and we set up a stereo to play music in the background.

The first to arrive was BEN. I gave him a big hug because he's been gone for ages; poor thing, he was at the repairs place because he'd managed to damage the wiring to his right leg. But he remained in his usual high spirits, and immediately began helping Sarah. The second to arrive was one of Sarah's most regular customers, who brought apple and cranberry pies which were burnt but looked and smelt lovely nonetheless. Third to ring the doorbell was Amelia, and Doppler. We all scream and exchange warm hugs upon seeing eachother, and then suddenly hush because of the babies: three twin girls and one boy. They're absolutely beautiful! I settle the couple and newborns inside, and then trek upstairs to get changed like Sarah had been nagging me to do for the past half hour.

* * *

I'm not particularly into formal clothes, but who'd say that dressing up nicely doesn't make them feel prettier? I wouldn't bother with make-up mind you; that stuff is beyond me! Besides, it always looks somehow odd against my complexion.

Sarah had 'accidentally' bought a dress two-sizes small; she said that I'd be welcome to take it since she couldn't fit into it. I know that she bought it for me, and I know that** she** knows I know, but she sorted it out so brilliantly that all awkwardness was avoided. It's a gorgeous dress. Dark-chalk coloured, almost black; it drops half-way down my thighs; the neckline is high but it's wide. She bought a buckle-belt too, which clips perfectly around my waist, making the fabric dip into the middle. I un-braid my hair, pull the dress on and yank on some black shoes. Heaven forbid I should ever try heels, I think my feet would snap! I'm not used to wearing things on my feet, but Sarah insists that I do not go barefoot tonight.

* * *

Jim turns up half-a-hectic-hour later, by which time things are beginning to settle; the cooking is finished and all the food's neatly laid out on the table and there are at least a dozen people in the hall. Jim looks gorgeous. His hair is ruffled, and he's wearing a black tuxedo with a bow-tie and his cuff links are undone. I pull him inside and put my arms around his neck and kiss him, and we dance until Sarah appears in the hall. Everyone turns as she makes a small toast, before cheering and continuing with their baby-admiring, eating and dancing.

It reminds me of back when we were on the RLS Legacy and I'd been reluctant to join in the celebrating, as we were approaching the space-port, because I felt awkward. I feel at home here. Even though I barely know half of these people, I feel appreciated and un-judged. I've been thinking a lot about the weird guy I met in the market and what he was offering. The whole thing seems really dodgy, and I don't trust it at all, but up until now I've been so desperate to go home that I was almost prepared to risk going. Tonight's is making me realise that I am happy here too, though.

I miss Silver, I miss everyone back home on Erra and its gorgeous landscapes and acceptable bloody education systems. But if I were there, I'd miss Sarah, who, in my short time here, has acted more of a mother to me than my own ever had a chance to; and I'd miss Jim, who's the most beautiful, incredible best friend I've ever had; and I'd miss the insanity and brilliance of this planet, with it's mucked up schools and crazy market-places. I don't know what to do! I am torn.

I know that, if the werewolf-man was true to his word, then the visit would only be temporary, but I think that being pulled from the comforts of Montressor would only make me even more restless. I rest my head on Jim's shoulder, and he tightens his arms around my back, and I try to forget about everything that happened yesterday. Pushing the thoughts of the strange, dark-eyed man aside, I assure myself that I'll figure out what to do tomorrow. Just as I am slipping into a tranquil, disconnected quietness, somebody catches my eye, and I catch his _three eyes_? Mr. Clasby?!

I straighten up, shocked, and whisper in Jim's ear: "what the hell is our headmaster doing here?", to which he replies "what the hell are you talking about?". I sidle off to find Sarah, who is now a little tipsy from her champagne.

"Sarah, did you invite Mr. Clasby?" There are a couple of other teachers here, but _why the headmaster_?

"Yes, I did! Well, you know," she smiles drunkenly at me, nudging me with her elbow, "_someone_'s gotta keep up the good relations!" I roll my eyes. I am guessing that she's referencing to how much I've screwed up for him. "Plus, hey, he's a pretty nice dude if you get to know him."

"And you'd know that how?" She doesn't reply so I slide back to where Jim is standing, or I try to; I turn and almost crash straight into a textured suit, belonging to someone really, _really_ tall.

"I can assure you that I am just as surprised to see you here as you are me," Sir says, in his usual monotonous tone. I guess he is trying to say 'sorry for being up in your face, I didn't mean to do it two days in a row'. I suddenly feel uncomfortable in what I'm wearing; I cannot explain how odd it is to find someone of such importance in a small gathering like this, especially when you did not think in a million years that they'd show up.

"What did you expect?" I ask, throwing an amused-looking-Jim some 'help me' glares, but he appears to be happy just laughing at me from across the room.

"Jim. I'd no concept that the two of you even knew eachother." I laugh.

"Why, cause he's too cool to hang with me?" Sir glares at me with all three eyes, and I remind myself that I can't be too casual because I've still got to get on his good side.

"Kaia," he starts, relaxing his posture and his stare, putting his bony hands into his pockets, "what are you after?" I look up at him, surprised by his sudden shift in tone, and conversation.

"How do you mean?"

"This is not your home, and you're not interested in qualifications, so what is tying you down?" I don't want to say Jim, or even Jim and Sarah, because it makes me look stupid. He notices my hesitation. "Love isn't a reason to be ashamed of."

"Man, are you psychic or something?"

"You're not difficult to read," he says, not even remotely amused. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to figure him out. What's up with all the personal questions?

"Why do you ask?" I say. He clasps his hands together in front of his chest and straightens up again.

"Curious, that's all," he leans forward, then begins to walk off again, "have a nice evening, Kaia." I do like him, but he is **so** weird!


	10. I Love You

_I'm away from home at the moment and there's little wi-fi, but I've written about three chapters ahead so will try and update steadily. Thank you to everyone who has been reading, it means a lot to me!_

* * *

Kaia's POV

Now that I have no school and no party to help organise, I'm free to do as I please. Sarah doesn't even need any more help because BEN is back with us.

I woke up in the early afternoon because I'd just been so exhausted. Last night was lovely, though I don't remember much of the last few hours, only that I felt a little tipsy. I'm not a drinker, but I do get carried away easily. Apparently, according to Sarah, Jim had also seemed slightly hungover this morning, and the two of us had danced with practically all of the guests in that hall. I don't doubt that; we were probably the most uncivilised of everybody there.

So I went for a long walk, away from everybody and everything, to try and set my thoughts straight. Through Montressor's bleak hills which covet the skinny mountain streams and hidden valleys, overlooking the small town and the big cities miles away. The sun begins to set before I've even considered turning around to head to the inn; it's amazing how quickly the day goes by when you wake up late. But I can't go back until I've made up my mind; I really don't have long to decide whether or not to go with the werewolf-man, and I can't afford to stall any longer.

What's to consider? I haven't been home in six years. I don't even know what's going on there, and that's kind of terrifying; the planet is half-way across the galaxy, the cities entirely shut off from the universe around them. Everybody I knew could be dead. They could be hurt. There could be a war going on, and I wouldn't know. Father doesn't have those ties to Erra; he was connected only briefly through Mother and I.

At the same time, everything could be exactly as it was. But that only gives another reason for me to be there! The planet provides me a sense of serenity which is extremely difficult to achieve elsewhere. It's beautiful and calming; when I'm there, I feel like I've found myself. Here, although I am undoubtedly happy, I feel like I am constantly looking, or waiting, for something. Maybe this opportunity is it?

But I really do need to think about whether or not I can trust that guy. Oh, I don't know what to do!

I clasp my hands to my forehead then shuffle along the cliff to sit on the edge, dangling my legs over the edge. The view sucks but it's nice to be high up. The last few rays of sunshine are beating down on my back, and the sky in front of me is turning a steady red; the pink-orange clouds are long and thin, texture-less. Maybe I should talk to Jim about it. Sarah would give me a straight "no", but he's massively adventurous and up-for-everything, and understanding, so he'll consider it. I have a feeling he's got enough sense to advise me not to go, but second opinion might still be useful.

* * *

I'm distracted from my thoughts as I hear a motor revving behind me. It's not loud, but it's stuttering like it's trying to jump out of its vehicle. I turn around, and almost gasp in shock: it's Jim! I grin at him. He's got his solar surfer working! He lands it and, smiling, comes to sit down beside me.

"You came looking for me?" I ask, surprised. I told Sarah that I'd be here, so she must've pointed him in this direction if, and when, he asked.

"You're not difficult to spot," he says, grinning, then looks out off the edge. The sky is redder now. "Of all places to sit, you chose **this** edge?" I laugh. Jim knows these hills better than anyone, but even I figured that there are plenty of views a million times nicer than this one. He stands up suddenly, and puts his hand out for me to take. "What d'you say we go find somewhere prettier? Before the sun sets."

I feel a smile creep across my face, and I know that he means to fly there, so I take his hand. I've not even the smallest amount of vertigo in me, because I actually like heights, but I can't help but feel a little nervous about getting on the back of that thing with him. It looks well-made, though, and I trust him.

He hops onto it, and grabs onto a metal bar which, I assume, is how he steers the thing. Noticing my slight hesitation, he smiles and reassures me that it's safe.

"I trust you, but I don't trust myself," I say, tiptoeing gently on behind him.

"What could go wrong?" he asks, looking back at me.

"What if I bend too far and tip it upside down?" He laughs.

"Just keep in and hold on."

"To you or the bar?"

"Whichever makes you feel safer," he says, before starting up the engine. Shit, we're actually going off on this thing! "Are you ready?" he grins, looking behind at me.

"It wouldn't make any difference!" I have to yell over the engine now. He smiles, I put one arm around his waist and lock the other into the bar, and he presses his foot down on a pedal in front. I could've sworn for a moment that I'd been knocked off; we shot forwards so fast that I felt like I'd left my body behind me. I thought we were gonna lift gently off the ground and then zap around! But I'm ok; my grip on Jim tightens and I jam my foot into a small bar below me which doesn't look particularly important.

The wind rushes through our hair and ruffles our clothes, so fast that I can barely hear Jim's yelling, or the engine, anymore. The hills below us seem further and further away. I start laughing because this is so brilliant. It's like falling sideways! You sort of forget that the board is even there. I'm seriously surprised that we don't see many others flying through these hills; this is one of the most amazing things I've ever done, and I'm still only clinging desperately onto the back of Jim. We cover distances that took me half an hour to walk in under a minute. No wonder he found me quickly!

"ARE YOU OK?" he yells, trying to be louder than the roaring wind.

"I THINK I'M GONNA CRY!" I shout back, and then I can hear him laughing again. He knows I'm not scared; he knows I'm just overwhelmed. I grin, and snuggle into his billowing shirt and watch the ground below disappear behind us. You know that peace I was talking about earlier? I think I just found it again.

* * *

We must've flown for twenty minutes before landing near another cliff edge. I said thank you to Jim and fell into him when we stepped off, my head spinning. The sun is disappearing into the horizon. He smiles and takes my hands and leads me to the cliff edge, which I hadn't even had a chance to look at because I'd been so tipsy from the ride.

"I used to come here to escape," he says, walking backwards so he can keep facing me, still holding my hands, "haven't been in almost a year." I look away from him and out at the landscape: it's absolutely stunning. I heard about Montressor's dust cliffs but I'd never thought about visiting. These are mountains; they're too tall and jagged to be hills. They rise and fall as violently as a heart-rate monitor, and in the setting sun the orange-gold sand appears crimson. The valleys are frighteningly deep, and frighteningly deserted: no plants, animals, water or people. Actually, I haven't seen a single person for miles.

I look out off the edge, feeling the sand circulate around my bare feet, then whisk off the cliff edge as the wind whistles through us.

Jim's POV

She stands at the edge, in awe, I'm guessing. She's easily consumed by beautiful landscapes; plonk her in front of a pretty view and she'll completely daze out. When I pointed it out to her once, she told me that she can literally hypnotise herself watching the ocean on her home planet. I've never seen the sea, so she said she'd take me some day.

I walk slowly up behind her, and slip my arms around her waist, feeling her bare skin through her thin shirt. She smiles and nuzzles into me. The wind tickles the back of my neck and ruffles my hair and my loose clothes as I stare over her shoulder at the vast expanse of absolutely nothingness. Standing here, holding her, is almost as exhilarating as solar surfing. It's just us in a world of dust, and rocks, and red hills. She puts her porcelain hands over mine, joined together at her waist, and turns her face so that our noses almost touch. Her eyes are glistening even more than usual. I get completely lost in them.

"I love you," she says, after a few minutes. I have to pull back a little because it surprised me; she's never said that before. Her smile doesn't falter. I put my hands back on her hips, this time standing directly in front of her, and pull her in close to kiss her and she wraps her arms around my neck. My goosebumps are about to jump off my skin. Her lips are soft, and her fingers are sliding around like crazy across my back.

When we break away from eachother, I tell her: "I love you, too." Her eyes crinkle and she falls into my chest, clasping her arms around my waist as I pull her in closer.

We haven't done anything like this in ages. On arriving back home, we were crazy over eachother; needy and obsessive and lustful, and the relationship was intense, but that was ok because our feelings were entirely mutual so any "inappropriate" behaviour was quickly excused. After a few months we somehow slipped out of those habits. The way I felt never fluctuated, we just sort of eased off from being so insane, I suppose school began to absorb the extra energy we'd always had. But every now and then there'll be a moment like this, and all of that intensity will come rushing back, and it will be amazing.


End file.
